The First Annual Swan-Jones Cook-Off
by emmasfairytale
Summary: When Killian Jones insults Emma Swan's milk dud popcorn, there is only one way to resolve the conflict: with a cook-off. But this culinary clash means a little something more to Killian than telling his fiancee 'I told you so.' (Captain Cobra Swan fluff, 1.4k.)


"It's HERE!"

Leroy's bellows flooded through Storybrooke's streets, forcing everyone to prick up their ears. In the past, he'd flown through the main road alerting the town's residents to the newest curse or memory wipe. Today, he was notifying them of an equally as urgent and perhaps even more pressing matter.

"It's here! The first annual Swan-Jones cook-off is HERE!"

The stage was set. The contestants were ready. In the center of Granny's, Emma Swan and Killian Jones shared a final friendly handshake before the start of the competition. The challenge? Out-perform their significant other by preparing the most exquisite entrée imaginable. The scoring? Each dish would be judged by three completely unbiased and highly-qualified judges: Granny, David Nolan, and Henry Mills.

The stakes? Higher than ever.

It had all started during a typical Swan-Jones family movie night. Killian had nestled his arm around Emma's shoulder and tugged her closer to him as she'd popped a melted Milk Dud popcorn kernel into his mouth.

"How is it?" Emma had murmured. "I microwaved it ten seconds longer than usual."

"All right," her unsuspecting fiancée had ventured, "but my cooking is better."

Ominous silence in the living room. Emma had slowly lifted Killian's hand from her shoulder, sat up to look her pirate straight in the eyes, and said:

"It's on."

That night, Killian had been confident in his culinary abilities. But this morning, he was nervous. After years of feeling like he'd lost his way, he was finally cozying into a family. His escapades in Nemo's submarine with Henry made him hopeful that he could really be a father figure for the boy. This cooking competition, however playful, felt like a test—and he'd never been entirely good at those. Regardless, he planned to give it his all: his honor and favorite spot on the couch were at stake. Emma would never let him live it down if she emerged victorious.

Emma and Killian stood poised to begin on opposite sides of Granny's kitchen. They had until lunchtime to polish their dishes; then, the judging began. A small crowd had gathered at the diner to watch the spectacle, eager to see who would prevail. Leroy nodded at both contestants, then announced:

"The cook-off begins in three… two… one… Go!"

Emma immediately raced to her side of the kitchen and surveyed her ingredients. Three loaves of bread, grape jelly, Reese's pieces, and brown sugar. A sly smirk on her face, she picked up her knife and got to work. This was going to be a piece of cake.

Killian sauntered over to his side and cast a cursory glance over the array of spices he'd selected: mint, coriander, and garlic. He couldn't keep the smile from his face as he looked at his main ingredient. His fiancée didn't stand a chance.

* * *

As the final minutes ticked down, and the judges craned their necks over the diner table in anticipation, the two contestants added finishing touches to their dishes. Killian drizzled his sweet and sour sauce lazily over his meal, taking a quick whiff and sighing with delight at the aroma. Emma spread a layer of oozing jelly onto the wheat bread, licking the extra off of her fingers. She was confident in her concoction.

"And… time!"

Leroy's piercing shout announced the closure of the competition. Both Emma and Killian took one long, deep breath, and stepped back from the kitchen. It was time for the moment they had been simultaneously awaiting and dreading: the judging.

Leroy and Ruby carried plates of each chef's dish to the three judges as the spectators took in each meal. Emma and Killian stood behind the diner counter, admiring their dishes proudly.

Granny spoke first. "Before eating, would you both tell us a little bit about what you made?"

Emma piped up. " _My_ meal is peanut butter and jelly sandwiches—but with liquid Reese's pieces instead of peanut butter. You know, to get all melty. It's a creative twist on a classic lunchtime favorite." She grinned triumphantly at Killian as she gestured towards her sandwiches. Killian had to admit, they did look good – jewels of chocolate dribbled from the sides of each one, mingling with the dark purple jelly. The judges, too, looked impressed.

Killian cleared his throat, suddenly feeling less confident in his preparation—especially when he cast a side glance at Henry, who was waiting expectantly. Squeezing the tremor out of his voice, he continued.

"I made, erm, boiled mackerel, topped with soy-chili sweet and sour sauce. A hint of cilantro, mint, and ginger."

The judges raised their eyebrows. Henry passed Killian a conspiratorial wink, and Killian felt a pang of pride.

"Okay, time to eat!" Ruby cheered. All three judges raised their heads, and then their utensils. They tried Emma's dish first; they nodded in approval and caught all the leftover melted chocolate in their fingers, licking it up. Emma was glowing. Next, they dug into Killian's meal. He watched with nervous anticipation, noting David licking his lips after the first bite and Granny scrutinizing a piece by rotating it multiple times on the fork. Henry's expression was unreadable—he kept his head tilted down towards the food.

After all three judges had polished off their meals, Leroy stepped in. "Are the judges ready to announce the results?" Granny, David, and Henry nodded, wiping their mouths with the cloth napkins bought specifically for this occasion. It was rare for Granny's to go this classy.

"Okay. We'll start on the left. Granny, which dish tickled your taste buds?"

Granny wiped a stray glob of jelly from the side of her mouth. "Well, I found both dishes to be very delicious. I'm considering adding them to our lunch menu. But, I did like Killian's use of the sauce to further flavor the mackerel. And the spices? Genius! The pirate gets my vote."

Killian grinned while Emma let out a low moan. Leroy didn't even skip a beat.

"Killian one, Emma zero. David? What did you think?"

David cleared his throat. "Um, I really liked both of the foods. But I'm going to have to go with Emma's."

Emma had always been a daddy's girl; Killian should have seen that one coming, even though David was his mate. As if he'd read his mind, David shrugged at him apologetically. Emma snuck Killian an indignant glance before they both turned their eyes to the final judge and tiebreaker: Henry. Killian didn't know what to expect, but he really thought he'd eked out a good relationship with the boy. Maybe, just maybe…

Leroy butted in. "It's tied up. Henry, you have the final decision. Who is the winner?"

Henry looked sheepish, but certain. "Uh… my vote goes to Emma's sandwich."

"Yes!" Emma nearly leapt off the floor, pumping her fists in the air. "I knew it!" The triumphant smile didn't leave her face even as Leroy hoisted the paper crown onto her head. Killian couldn't help but feel happy for her; after all, she was the woman he was marrying. He chased the wave of disappointment out of his chest and gave his princess a well-deserved kiss. "Congrats, love."

* * *

Killian woke up the next morning to the cadence of Emma's gentle snoring. Her golden locks were all tangled up in his hook and over his face. As he gently eased her arms away from his chest and sat up, he noticed a crisp white envelope on top of his dresser. _Killian,_ someone had written in a spidery script. Careful not to wake Emma, he stepped towards the table and peeled it open.

Inside, he found a note and a package wrapped in silver. He read the note first.

 _You and I both know your cooking is_ way _better. But we both also know that Mom's a sore loser. Sorry you had to take one for the team, Dad. I left you some cooking of my own as a peace offering. -Henry_

Killian skipped down the stairs and reread the note over and over again, peeling back the silver wrapping and nibbling on the Pop-Tart Henry had enclosed for him. As he surveyed his own kitchen and got right to making breakfast in bed for his sleepy soon-to-be wife, there was only one word on his mind.

 _Dad._


End file.
